


Crushed

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Backstory 101 [5]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, post episode 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:16:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: Earl and Cecil are graduating. At the party, Cecil decides to make a move on an athlete he has so far only admired from a distance.





	Crushed

Spring air cooled the mornings and suffocated the afternoons, often threatening thunder to oppress the evenings. Two boys, no, two _young men,_ to their minds at least, sat under the bleachers beside the school track, glad to be out of sight (and hopefully out of mind) of Coach Nazr. 

It was morning still, before the full heat and humidity smothered their energy. Cecil had almost made it all the way through high school. Admittedly that took a lot of help from Earl, and Earl swore he was okay with that. It's what friends do, right?  
"Hey, Ceece, whatcha gonna do after graduation?" Earl kicked at Cecil's foot with his own. Cecil shrugged.  
"Dunno. College I guess, Aby got this new boyfriend who seems real serious and she said I can go to college and she'll get a job."  
"You gonna keep interning at the radio station?"  
"Sure!" Cecil glanced at his friend and smiled. "I think mister Burton likes me. He said he'll help with some voice coaching. You know, like how to say difficult place names like Ten-nessy and Ut-tah and stuff." Cecil returned his gaze to the athletes jogging around the track, warming up for practice. "What about you? You decided yet?"  
It was Earl's turn to shrug. "Catering and hospitality management. My mom says I can't make a living as scoutmaster and I better learn something else. Maybe I'll open a wilderness-themed restaurant one day."

Earl watched the lazy smile on Cecil's face and groaned. "Oh Ceece, not again."  
Cecil gave Earl a helpless frown. "Wha-a-at? I'm just watching the practice."  
"Sure you are. You're not watching a certain football player limber up, are you?"  
"Maybe." Cecil grinned at Earl. "Don't worry, sweetie, You're still my best friend even if you do give me advice when I don't ask."  
Earl tutted and shook his head. "Ceece, why are you chasing some jock who doesn't want to be caught? At least, not by you?"  
Cecil scowled at that. "What do you mean, _exactly,_ Earl? You think he's outta my league? You saying I don't have a chance?"  
Earl sighed. "You remember the days when him and his best buddies used to rub your face in the dirt for kicks, hmm?"  
"Oh come on, Earl!" Cecil waved a hand at Earl as if that would dissipate Earl's concern. "That was years ago. We've all grown up since then."

Cecil wouldn't even listen to the nagging voice at the back of his own mind. The voice that said, _you're a fool for thinking he'd ever like you back,_ and _he's not above rubbing your face in the dirt again if he wants to._ Instead he drowned out his own concerns with a monologue about how his idol was athletic and strong and _probably_ not an asshole. In the afternoons when he got home from school, Cecil would take his homework up to the attic and open the window on the roof. From there he could look out over the track and watch the team train together. Sometimes it was difficult to pick out which of the surprisingly lithe hunks of brawn was his idol, but that one time he used binoculars made him feel ashamed. Besides, what if someone saw the glint of reflected sunlight, a sudden double-flash from the lenses? Someone would know it was him and he'd be a laughing stock again.

He decided he would stop it. He would listen to Earl, stop spying on practice sessions and stay out of the attic.

It worked for a while, long enough for Cecil to concentrate more on his homework and less on his crush. It still churned his stomach when he caught an accidental glimpse of deltoid and bicep across the cafeteria, it fluttered his heart when they would pass in the corridor, Cecil looking away deliberately but always checking at the last second in case he'd been noticed only to look down again, hurtfully aware of his insignificance. Earl knew. Earl always knew and he kept quiet for fear of getting snapped at. As far as he was concerned, Cecil was coping. He was passing his classes at least, and not in imminent danger of showing up at a game, or after practice, to make a fool of himself or worse over some jock who couldn't love him back. Earl supposed that Cecil got over it, that the crush wore off or withered and died from lack of care.

Graduation came and Earl asked Cecil to be his partner for the graduation party. Cecil grinned and agreed, teasing his best friend a little with a fake swoon and comments like _"oh Early I never knew you felt that way about me!"_ and _"if only you'd said something we could've been making out under the bleachers all those times we hid from Coach Nazr."_ Earl took the teasing with good humour. To tell the truth, he mused, his feelings for Cecil were mixed up. Sometimes he looked at Cecil with an overwhelming urge to protect him, to keep him safe from the world and all the rest of the ordinary bad things that happen to people. Other times he wondered what might happen if he kissed Cecil just once, not the jokey kisses on the cheek they sometimes shared, but a proper _eye-contact-until-the-last-second-here-comes-a-real-kiss_ kiss, with soft parted lips and maybe... well maybe Ceece would know what to do with their tongues 'cause Earl sure didn't. That thought made Earl's stomach flip pleasantly but every time he was actually _with_ Cecil, somehow he just couldn't see a way to make it happen. 

It was with a sense of irony that Earl realised that all the while he'd been trying to talk Ceece out of his stupid crush, he'd been growing one of his own and he had no idea how to broach the subject with his best friend that maybe, if he could feel the same way, they could really have something. 

Orange milk. Earl thought he'd smuggle a crate to the party after graduation and he and Cecil could sit outside in the warm night, listen to the party booming inside and drink and talk and joke and see what might happen with a little encouragement. Cecil loved the idea. When Earl quietly told Cecil what he'd prepared, Cecil almost dragged him outside by the hand. They ran, racing and laughing, to the scene of so many serious and silly moments. But this time they sat high on the bleachers for all to see instead of hiding beneath. 

Their jokes got progressively filthier as the orange milk supply depleted, until a noise stopped their hilarity. Earl wasn't sure how long he'd been there, their classmate, hiding under the bleacher listening to them babble and giggle, but it was certainly since before Earl had built up the courage to ask Cecil if he'd got over his crush on the musclebound football player. Cecil shrieked and clapped a hand over his mouth after confessing the truth, that the crush was alive and well and that he planned to _do something about it_ that very night. The bellow that came from beneath made Cecil and Earl both leap to their feet and descend as quickly as they dared. It was the worst that it could be. The object of Cecil's unrequited adoration stood with a face like thunder.

"PALMER you FREAK!" The large teenager yelled and pointed while Cecil stood rooted to the red dirt under his feet. Earl stepped forward protectively, reading into the situation in a way that Cecil could not.  
"Hey, come on. Let this go, okay? No harm done." The boy shook his head, red cheeks and red lips moving, and Earl noticed red eyes too. "We won't tell. Okay?"  
Earl grabbed Cecil's arm and dragged him away, back to the party. They danced and laughed again. Cecil said he wanted to go talk to someone and Earl nodded, content that Cecil was safe with the rest of the party, probably going to get a drink and dance with Leann or Simone. It was a good hour before Earl realised that Cecil was actually _missing._

Earl panicked just a little before he calmed himself. He found Simone, who said she'd seen Cecil leave the party and go out into the parking lot. Leann said that Cecil hadn't been alone, she'd gone out to have an illicit cigarette and saw Cecil swigging from a bottle with one of the football players, you know, the big guy, was going out with that cute cheerleader until this morning? 

Earl panicked more. He ran for the car park, finding Cecil's beat-up car and finding Cecil in it, alone, curled up on the back seat. Earl knocked on the window and Cecil jumped, sat up and unlocked the door. Earl slid in beside him.  
"Careful! There's a mess." Cecil pushed Earl to stop him from coming closer. Earl frowned.  
"Ceece, what in Hell happened here?"  
"I did it. I went out to get the rest of the orange milk and he was still there. I said come back to the party, have some orange milk, but he said no, he had something better. I think it was bourbon. It burned."  
Earl took in Cecil's dull, slurred voice, streaked makeup and red eyes, the stain on the upholstery of the bench seat. He put his hand on Cecil's arm. "What did he do to you?"  
"Oh," Cecil managed a weak grin. "Nothing I didn't want him to do. It just hurt a bit more than I expected."  
"Ceece–"  
"It's fine, Earl. He left right after. Came and went. Ha." Earl swivelled, careful to avoid the stain. He cupped Cecil's face and wiped under his eyes with his thumbs. Cecil looked up at last. "Early, is that what it's always like? You want something so badly then when you get it, it's... it's..."  
Earl hugged Cecil close and let him sob. He almost joined in.  
"I guess sometimes what you want isn't what you really get, huh? Come on, let's get in the front and I'll drive us to my place." 

Much later, with Cecil bathed and in Earl's pyjamas and in Earl's bed, dozing off the alcohol, Earl frowned and hesitated then slipped into bed beside his best friend. He might be needed if Ceece woke up and remembered what happened in the back of his car, whether it was something he had willingly asked for or not. Earl kissed the back of Cecil's still-damp hair and wished that he had said something, said _anything_ that might have made Cecil _his_ before... He stifled the thought with a fist in his mouth and eyes screwed shut. There would be plenty time for regrets in the morning.


End file.
